Hands of Ink…Day15) Napowrimo

Dear Pen,

Throwing water through the sky

sometimes I cry without any reason or any need

Yet the melodies of breathing loudly,

Ohay-Ohey ,

This joy,

I find -hiding and seeking

underneath the journey of my purse

in the back alleys, off sidewalks


I stoop, breaking through  silence-halls in my mind

I empty all my



growing up in courage

we’ll meet again.

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